


Candy Cane

by AnselaJonla



Series: Prompt fills [34]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnselaJonla/pseuds/AnselaJonla
Summary: A fic written for a prompt on the r/WritingPrompts subreddit:[CW] Flash Fiction Challenge - An Airport & A Candy Cane
Series: Prompt fills [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1097823
Kudos: 2





	Candy Cane

**Author's Note:**

> [WP] Location: An Airport | Object: A Candy Cane
> 
> 100-300 words
> 
> Time Frame: Now until this post is One Week old.
> 
> Post your response to the prompt above as a top-level comment on this post.
> 
> The location must be the main setting, whether stated or made apparent.
> 
> The object must be included in your story in some way.
> 
> Have fun reading and commenting on other people's posts!
> 
> The only prize is bragging rights. No reddit gold this time around.
> 
> Winners will be announced next week in the next Wednesday post.

My daughter asked me to keep her candy cane safe while she and her dad visited family. I carefully turn it over and over in my hands. Such a small object, and so fragile. So cheap, and yet infinitely precious to me. Lifting it to my face I inhale its sharp scent, blinking tears out of my eyes. I run my fingers along its thin length, tracing the familiar curve. The plastic wrapping, once sharp on the end, is soft underneath my hands.

The arrivals board that hangs over the cavernous hall updates continuously. Hordes of passengers swarm out from the baggage claim. Joyous reunions take place all around me, while passengers without anyone to meet them weave their way through the crowds to the onward travel hub abutting the terminal. I’m surrounded by an absolute cacophony, but I hear none of it. I’m in the middle of a crowd, yet I’m utterly alone.

Still I stand there, candy cane weaving in and out of my fingers. Time has no meaning, faces blur together. A guard, barely old enough to shave, starts to walk towards me before an older colleague stops him, recognition written across his face.

I remain as the crowds disperse.The chaos dies, but still I wait. Over and over again I turn the festive treat in my hands.

0103 approaches. It was at that time, seventeen years ago today, that my world was shattered. That I was told, along with dozens of others, that the wreckage had been found. That no-one had survived. That my husband and daughter were dead.


End file.
